Map out your future, but don’t forget to use a pencil!

When I was 5, my lofty career goal was to become a school bus driver. My, oh, my, how times have changed.

Then, when I graduated from sixth grade, I was sick of school and vowed I would never become a doctor. Doctors had to go to school for way, way too long.

Now look at me, I sit here taking chemistry, biology and medical terminology classes, all in preparation to go where? Of course, med school.

At age 13, I sat in health class learning about sickly girls who had this nasty disease called "eating disorder." "Why in the world would they do that to themselves?" I remember asking myself. "Why didn’t they just eat normally?"

Shortly thereafter, though, I found myself struggling with the very thing I hadn’t possibly been able to wrap my mind around earlier.

The sense of loneliness and misunderstanding creeping ever deeper, disengaging my ability to accept myself and eclipsing my memories of how to be "normal." It had felt as though I was stuck in a never-ending cycle that I never even remembered entering to begin with.

But, just as I turned the corner of troubles with eating, I did, finally, after a long and bumpy ride, turn the corner of healing and body acceptance.

In ninth grade, I completed my church confirmation in the Lutheran church.

I was certain I would forever stick to my roots there and live enthusiastically for my Christian beliefs. I looked down on other religions and considered myself lucky that I was now on a safe path to heaven.

After all, some of my poor, unfortunate friends were going to hell and hadn’t a clue, right?

My, oh, my, how things in life continually do elude me.

At the age of 15, I was beginning to swim competitively at a national and international level. That destination was definitely not on my original map. I’d loved the water as a child, but elite swimming never really entered my mind. I never watched the Olympic swimmers, wishing I could do that kind of thing some day.

I just sort of swam, and then found myself approaching the elite level. It was only at that point that I decided to draw in a scenic route on my map.

I ended up traveling that road for several years before burning out and deciding I liked the other path I’d been on much better.

When I was 18, I came to Oneonta to start college. College was a definite destination I’d intended to reach, although I hadn’t a clue that meant I’d be in Oneonta, ’til shortly before coming here.

Since that point, when I started a new chapter of my life here in Oneonta, my life has certainly continued its twisting, windy path. It has spiraled around and through so many things that my pea brain could have never imagined or anticipated as a child.

In fact, I’m beginning to realize that my life is naturally negating everything I once knew. But it sparks the adventurer inside me. I am forever fascinated with exploring what is around me, from the physical nature to things less readily perceived or understood.

I would never consider going back to walk the path I once knew. The life I lead now is perhaps unpredictable, but I am flexible. My life may be considered unorthodox or "wrong" to some, but I don’t measure my worth based on what others think of me. I’m simply here living and growing and learning, pretty much as are most other people.

I may not be walking the same exact path as others, but it’s been comforting to find people who can accept me and my differences, rather than being rejected or coerced to change or conform to something I am not.

Life isn’t always easy and painless when you’re different, of course, but it’s most definitely not like it’s impossible nor something to be ashamed of. In fact, I find myself much more open-minded about so many things now as compared to when I was growing up, all thanks to my understanding of what it’s like to be on the other side of judgment.

Anyway, upon a couple special requests, I will close this month with something that expresses my own perception of life.

Growing Through the Pains by Kate Pavlacka

Is it possible to grasp the boundary between us, or not?

The remembered pasts, the realities that were perceived. What angry god gave us hopes and days? What threatening cloud overshadows the light?

Reality fuses so stealthfully into a pearl, choking what it will.

nested deeply in feigned security, so Deprived of nurturance, enchanting

suffocation.

One is resting long, dreaming deep. the other restless and vigilant.

finally, in the distance, long awaited, voices echoing a sweet resonance.

A heavy and tenacious wisdom, stirring the ones who know it.

breaking the delicate shell, exposing the vulnerabilities of the life

within.

Freedom, now without certainty, standing at the crossroads, anticipation

fueling hope.

Power finally unleashed, severing the threads that bind life and relations.

Passageways opened between what is and what was, confidence so alluring.

The ache that once settled deep within the heart, touched upon, can never again soothe the soul. river of sorrow bleed away.

Love of life has come forth, uninhibited passions sparkle through shadows.

Soul unleashed, parted at the joints, ready to soar with spirit.

Touched by fire, flying to the Sun, to deep, blue waters, to the infinite things, which lie far beyond the diminutive horizon. 

Kate Pavlacka, a graduate of the State University College at Oneonta, has been totally blind for about 10 years.